“Seriously, Jen, not again.” I hand it back to her but she wags her finger at me and refuses to take it back. I can’t drink, I’m pregnant, but, knowing the questions it will raise, I lift the glass to my mouth and pretend to take a sip. I raise my glass in a toast to Jenna, and then I wander off to dance, discreetly emptying my glass back into one of the punch bowls.
Just after 10 pm I feel I can safely leave without being judged too harshly. I slip out one of the back doors when no one is looking and I take a few deep breaths of the cool night air, clearing my head. When I get home Aidan is reading one of Alex’s bedtime story books, but Alex is nowhere to be seen.
“He’s sleeping,” Aidan explains, getting to his feet and stretching as he tosses the book back onto the couch.
“Bob the Builder saves the Day?” I raise my eyebrows quizzically, reading the cover upside down.
“It’s a real page turner,” he grins, once again running his eyes up and down my scantily clad body.
“How was your party?” It is just a simple question but I can’t do this any more. I can’t be around him. It wreaks havoc with my emotions.
“Thanks for watching Alex,” I say briskly, and he looks affronted by the sudden change in my tone. I swallow back a sob and open the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Leaving him to see himself out, I flee to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me and leaning my forehead against it. The tears that have been threatening finally burst through and stream down my face. I move to the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. The make-up and the perfect hair remind me of the glossy, glamorous woman I was when I was married to Eric, and I wet a face-cloth, rubbing at my face savagely. When not a trace of make-up remains, I braid my hair over my shoulder, so that it falls down past my breast bone. I step out of the loathsome dress and pull my tracksuit pants and vest from the hook behind the laundry basket. Feeling more like myself, despite the red eyes, I open the door.
My hand flies to my mouth just in time to stifle the scream that bursts from my chest.
“I’m sorry!” Aidan whispers, studying my face. “I was worried. You seem . . . Are you okay?”
“Please. Just go.” I push past him and make my way to the kitchen, lighting the gas to heat some water. I need a cup of coffee.
To my irritation he follows me, switches off the gas and takes the mug from my hand. Placing it on the counter he turns me to look at him. His brown eyes are the colour of chocolate, warm and genuinely concerned.
“Look, I know that you and I . . . well, our situation is awkward to say the least, but you are Alex’s mother. And for some reason you’re important to me. I mean, I remember your birthday, for God’s sake!” he laughs, a harsh, forced sound. “I don’t remember anything, but I remember your birthday.” There is a muscle going in his jaw and his eyes are searching my face. “The point is . . . I care about you and you’re not okay. No, don’t,” he shakes his head angrily as I open my mouth to protest. “You are not fine. Now, tell me what’s going on. Please.” He sounds almost desperate.
I square my shoulders and say the one thing that I know will stop this line of questioning in its tracks.
“Where is Sofia?” I meet his gaze, dead-pan, my face devoid of emotion. He senses it the second I shut myself down and he recoils visibly. An angry, empty smile pulls up the corners of his mouth and he drops his eyes.
“Okay, Rebecca. Fine. Have it your way, I give up.” He crosses the kitchen in just a few strides and I jump as the front door slams so hard that it rattles the windows.
Chapter 35
“Morning, Miss Davis.” Bailey, one of our soldiers, greets me cheerily as I enter the holding cells. We have very little need for these cells, in fact we only considered setting them up when we captured Darius, one of Eric Dane’s henchmen. Darius has been in our custody for a few months, but he does not speak a word. Now the holding cells have a new inmate, the man I have come to see.
“Good morning, Bailey,” I smile. “How’s our prisoner this morning?”
“He’s doing okay, still complaining about the food.” He grins, showing the slight gap between his front teeth.
“Sounds like Chase,” I say as I head down the stairs.
“You want to take a walk with me?” I ask as I unlock the door. Chase glares at me. His expensive grey jacket is rumpled and dirty and looks ridiculous over the black sweat pants and T-shirt he is wearing.
“You can’t just keep me here, Rebecca, I have rights,” he insists immediately.
“Aw, come on, Chase, the fresh air will do you good. Self-persecution really doesn’t suit you.”
He reluctantly gets to his feet.
“I’m sorry they’ve kept you locked up,” I apologise as we walk. “It wasn’t really the plan but they just weren’t sure what to do with you.” Chase has been well fed and taken out daily to bathe and exercise. He has also been kept constantly supplied with clean clothes and books. Hardly the life of an average prisoner, but it is a far cry from the opulence that he was accustomed to in the States.
He walks beside me arrogantly, narrowing his eyes at every person we pass. A few, not realising he is our captive, smile politely or call out a greeting.
“Manners maketh man, Chase,” I remind him as he ignores yet another friendly ‘hello’.
“What do you want with me?” he demands.
“Not much, really,” I comment drily. “You served a purpose, but other than that I don’t really need anything from you. Unfortunately you’re kind of stuck with us, seeing as we are thousands of miles from the States and you have no way of getting back.”
“Lend me a car,” he counters arrogantly.
“Sure.” The answer is not what he expects and I laugh.
“You’re free to go, Chase, I won’t keep you prisoner here. But be warned, without the exact location of our refuelling depots you won’t get very far and the Rebeldom is not exactly a walk in the park. It’s dangerous out there and I don’t really want anything bad to happen to you, you’re a good guy, underneath it all.”
“Get someone to take me, then.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
He sulks for a few moments and then his curiosity gets the better of him.
“Who are all these people?” He watches the comings and goings with ill-disguised interest.
“These people are NUSA’s so-called ‘savages’, the same people that the fences are protecting you from.” I smile.
“They don’t look very dangerous to me,” he mumbles, as Jenna sashays past on her three-inch heels, blowing him a kiss.
“That’s kind of the point I’m trying to make, Chase.”
I spend some time showing him around, letting him become familiar with the area and our routines. I introduce him to Jenna, who flirts unabashedly, and even manages to coax a smile out of him.
“So,” Jenna announces, as we make our way through town, “word on the street is that we have some young love in our midst.” I raise my eyebrows politely, inwardly praying she is not about to give me some intimate insight into Aidan and Sofia’s relationship. “Our gorgeous young Michael Kelly is apparently smitten with Adam’s daughter.”
“Hope?” I laugh. “Michael and Hope?” No wonder she looked so disappointed when he didn’t stand up for her. I smile, mulling over this new development. I adore Michael, and I have always felt sorry for him and Morgan, having lost their mother and been betrayed by their father. Hope, with her strong sense of family values, will be good for him. Even if she drives me a little crazy, she has a very good heart. Michael deserves someone with that inherent loyalty.
We gossip a few minutes more and then I sense Chase getting uncomfortable.
“Jen, could you finish the tour?” I ask pointedly. “He can stay in the hostel until we find somewhere suitable. If that’s okay with you, Chase?”
He regards me thou
ghtfully. “Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks,” he adds grudgingly.
“Oh, and Chase,” I add, almost as an afterthought, “all exits are monitored 24/7 by our scouts. Please don’t make me send my army after you.” He pouts sulkily and I wave as I walk away.
Over the course of the next few days I notice that Aidan has rekindled his friendship with Crackerjack, who has quickly adjusted to our community and is constantly recommending and implementing changes and showing us new and improved methods of getting things done. He has designed a new water-heating system, which allows water to be super-heated around the clock with minimal effort, and he set to work fixing a lot of our broken radio equipment – transmitters, walkie-talkies, even an old stereo system. Michael and his friends crow with delight when they manage to successfully play an old compact disc, and I laugh at how easily they are pleased.
Things between Aidan and me are strained. We have barely spoken a word to each other since the night of my party. He spends a lot of time with Alex, though, and for this I am grateful. As I promised, my father has examined Aidan and run a battery of tests, even Henry has given him a thorough medical check-up, but they cannot find anything wrong with him. They have concluded that his amnesia is dissociative, caused by the trauma of having the procedure forced upon him. There is no treatment for his condition – in most cases memory returns with time, but my father warns Aidan that his memory might not return at all and with this we have to be content.
Adam and Hope are soon settled into a lower level apartment near the hostel, and I notice that Michael spends more time there than anywhere else. Again, I feel my heart swell with happiness that he has met someone who he can get close to. Even Adam seems delighted by the budding relationship. Slowly but surely, we are finding suitable space for all the members of the Ordinary. We all agree that it’s probably best to keep the Deranged at the hostel for now; we do not want to overwhelm or intimidate them with something as luxurious as their own dwellings. At least they are monitored day and night at the hostel, and there is always someone there to tend to their needs.
Brooke and Oliver have officially started their schooling, and Elizabeth is gradually drawing them out and integrating them with their classmates. I meet Archer’s mother Sienna, who is an intimidating, attractive, amazingly well-preserved woman. Archer introduces her proudly; she has been assisting at the hostel and taking care of the Deranged. She and Henry strike up a rapport and together they prepare the garden beds in Henry’s front lawn and set about planting his precious seedlings.
All in all, life is good. There is still no word from Reed, but it has been only three weeks. It’s far too soon to expect anything. I am becoming more conscious of the life growing inside me. According to Henry I am about thirteen weeks along, far too early to feel any foetal movement, but my maternal instincts are starting to surface. I am not yet showing any visible signs of being pregnant so my secret is still safe, but this morning I noticed that the waistband of my favourite jeans was slightly tighter than normal and I am not sure how much longer I will be able to hide it, particularly from those closest to me. Jenna, in particular, is especially observant. I still have no idea how I am going to deal with Aidan and Reed and their reactions when they learn about the baby, but for now they are not my concern. I am going to be a mother again. After all these years of believing that I was sterile, I am pregnant. I am in awe of the miracle occurring within me, and already feel the same love that I have for Alex growing for my unborn child.
For the first time I’m also nervous about the mission ahead. The flash raids will begin as soon as the scouts return, which will be any day now, and I find that I am not quite as eager to head off into battle as I would normally be. What if something were to jeopardise the health of the child? I would not forgive myself if something bad were to happen. But I am the leader of the Legion. I still have the same beliefs; I still want NUSA defeated. Now, more than ever, I want to fight for a world where my children can grow up with all the opportunities that they deserve. I have to fight. The only other person I would trust to lead the Legion into battle is hundreds of miles away, in Georgia. All these thoughts run wild in my head, day after day and I am no closer to the answers.
It is 10 am one Thursday when our peaceful routine is shattered. We are just leaving the Gold Room after a council meeting when two of the scouts burst through the front doors of the casino, panting with exertion and supporting an exhausted Quinn between them. The Vice-President’s nephew looks dehydrated and half-starved, his eyes are sunken in his head and his face is ashen.
“Quinn!” I grab his arm and lead him to a nearby chair. “Get him some water,” I say to the room in general and a minute later someone hands me a mug. Quinn gulps it down gratefully.
“It’s good to see you again, Rebecca,” he croaks.
“How did you get here?”
“There’s an SUV parked not far from here.” It is one of the scouts who answers. “He left it in plain sight, where we would be sure to see it and then came through the southern corridor.”
“I escaped,” Quinn explains. “They were holding me in the Cook County jail, in the same cell where they kept Aidan. A few days ago one of the guards slipped up. I’ve been there so long, I guess they became complacent. He turned his back on me after bringing me my food, and I managed to subdue him. I used the knife on my plate,” he adds, catching sight of my dubious frown. “I stabbed him in the neck before he even knew what was happening. Anyway, I managed to get out of the prison without being caught. There were very few guards around. By the time they raised the alarm, I had already stolen the SUV and was heading east.”
“How did you get through the fences?”
“I rammed them, near the Missouri-Kansas border.”
“And nobody followed you?”
“No,” he shakes his head, taking another mug of water from David. “They didn’t have time – it happened so fast. I detoured a lot, trying to confuse any trackers and I stopped and refuelled at Camp 7.”
My mind is racing, it just doesn’t make sense. It seems too easy, too convenient.
“Quinn,” I make sure I have his full attention before continuing, “the guard that you killed, you say he turned his back on you?”
“Yeah. Can you actually believe it? What an idiot!”
“No,” I answer, rising to my feet and staring down at him, a feeling of foreboding coming over me. “No, I don’t believe it.” Turning to the scouts I order them back to their posts immediately. “I think you walked right into a trap.” Raising my head, I meet Kwan’s eyes and I see my own trepidation reflected on his face.
“You’re a fool, boy!” the General booms irately, but before I can say anything to stop the tirade I know is coming, another two scouts erupt into the foyer.
“The convoy, they’ve found us!” one gasps, and my blood runs cold in my veins.
“Where are they?” the General barks, his lecture forgotten.
“The southern pass. They’re a few miles out but they’re heading straight for us.”
“Michael,” I turn to him, grabbing his shoulders to snap him out of his shock. “Get to the school. Get the children to the Sanctuary.” The Sanctuary is the underground basement of one of the old hotels. It’s enormous, big enough to hold over a thousand people. “Dad,” I add, grabbing my father’s arm, “go with him.”
He can hear the pleading in my voice and he rushes after Michael without arguing. I push my primary concern for Alex aside, he’ll be with Michael and my father; he’ll be safe. He has to be, I’ll make sure of it.
“Morgan,” I turn to her and she looks to me for instructions, all traces of animosity erased as we are united in a common goal. “You go to the hostel, get everyone out and join Michael. Once they’re safe, report straight back. We’re going to need you.” It’s the first time I am directly including Morgan in a battle, and her eyes widen as she realises how serious this m
ust be.
“Archer, find Adam. Tell him to round up the Ordinary and send them to the Sanctuary, he knows where it is.” This is going to be a tough task; many of the Ordinary are now settled in their own homes and are scattered far and wide, but Adam has enough people to assist him. “As soon as you’ve delivered the message, get back here. And bring your bow,” I add.
I turn to General Ross.
“General, rally the Legion. Every soldier we have. I want them to meet me in the High Street in ten minutes.” The General marches off, Smith and Wakeford right behind him.
“Everyone else, warn as many people as you can, spread the word. Soldiers to the street, civilians to the Sanctuary. If there’s not enough space in the basement, women and children first. The men can take refuge on the ground floor.”
“Shouldn’t we send them out through the northern exit? Let them make a run for it?” one of the younger scouts asks, but I disagree.
“No, it’s too late for that. They’ll never outrun them and too many people could get hurt in the chaos.”
“Rebecca, I’m so sorry.” Quinn looks devastated as he gets shakily to his feet.
“Go with the others,” I push him gently towards the door, unable to find any words to appease his conscience.
“Rebecca,” Kwan interrupts calmly, “you mentioned there were a hundred and fifty soldiers in the convoy?”
“Give or take.”
“Our Legion currently stands at two hundred and forty, so we’ve got a good chance of winning this.”
“At what cost?” I reply. “And if any of them get through our defences, the Sanctuary will be a slaughterhouse. Anyway there’s nothing we can do now, we can’t change anything,” I pull myself together. “We have to try.” I race towards the High Street where a crowd is already gathering. Never have I needed Reed more. His strength gives us an incredible advantage and his confidence makes me believe we can take on the world.
I leap on to the roof of an SUV yelling at everyone to keep quiet. Kwan and Jethro take up position just below me, in front of the car.
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